


Sticks and Stones

by ThirdGenerationRockette



Series: Sticks and Stones [1]
Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, F/M, Post S2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 23:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13728177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdGenerationRockette/pseuds/ThirdGenerationRockette
Summary: "Yeah," pausing, Mackenzie attempts a smile that she can't quite pull off. "He was...well, let's just say it wasn't a particularly healthy relationship."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for discussions of domestic abuse. Nothing graphic, but it's there.

It’s the cold that wakes her, she thinks, as she stretches her legs, groaning as she feels the beginnings of a cramp. She curls back up again before turning to snuggle against Will, her usual warming method, only to find his side of the bed empty. Sliding a hand across the sheet, she frowns at the discovery that it’s as cold as her feet currently are, so she slips out of bed and reaches for her robe.

She finds him on the couch, feet stretched out onto the table in front of him, the TV muted on some game or other (although it’s two in the morning so it surely can’t be anything he hasn’t seen before), and she stands for a few seconds just watching him. It's been a couple of months since she moved in, yet the feeling when she catches him unguarded like this is still strong enough to catch her breath, and to make her realise just how much things have changed in so short a time. Yawning slightly, she makes her presence known and he looks surprised as she walks towards him, concern in her eyes.

"There you are," she says quietly, sitting down next to him, shivering slightly and giving him an exaggerated pout. "How am I supposed to warm my feet on you if you’re out here?"

"Sorry, hon." He puts an arm around her shoulder and pulls her closer to him, tucking her against his side. "I couldn’t sleep."

"You alright?" she asks, her hand coming to rest on his thigh. 

"Yeah," he says, shrugging.

"Will..." She drags out his name, sighing.

"I’m fine, Mackenzie," he says, the tiniest hint of impatience creeping into his voice. "Fuck, you're freezing though, you should go back to bed."

"You’re obviously not fine, and if you think I’m going back to bed while you sit out here and brood about whatever it is you won’t tell me, you couldn’t be more wrong." She pauses, softening her tone. "I'm just going to stay right here with you until I'm warm. It's Saturday, we can sleep in."

"You're unbelievably fucking stubborn, you know that?" He smiles, the impatience slipping from his tone. "There's nothing wrong, I'm just..."

"Is it…" She pauses, "is it something _I’ve_ done?"

"No," he answers quickly, taking her hand and squeezing it until she looks up at him. " _No_.."

"Well, alright then, I'm just going to sit _here_." She climbs into his lap, taking his face gently in her hands and smiling. "Talk to me, Billy boy, tell me what's whirling around in that big old brain of yours."

"God, you're relentless," he says, leaning forward to kiss her softly.

"I know." She returns his kiss and sits back in his lap, her thumbs on his cheekbones.

"It's crazy, really," he pauses, shaking his head. "I keep thinking about something you said this afternoon."

"I say a lot of things." She quirks an eyebrow. "You're going to need to narrow it down."

"Before the two o'clock." He frowns. "Someone, I don't even remember who, said something really fucking insensitive about domestic violence, something about-"

"Don." She stops him, looking down, "it was Don. You know how he is. Sometimes words seem to just fall from his mouth, I don't think he meant it the way it sounded."

"I don't really give a shit what he meant, I give a shit about what you said." He removes one of her hands from his cheek and kisses her fingers, noting that she still isn't looking at him. "You said 'just because someone isn't being beaten to a pulp every day doesn't mean they're not being abused, it's so much more than that'."

"I know what I said." She looks back at him briefly, bites her lip, and looks away. 

"Mackenzie." He touches her chin gently, but she won't look back at him.

"It's not important, it doesn't..." She pitches forward and her arms loop around his neck, her cheek pressing against his.

"Don't say it doesn't matter, Mac, _please_." His palms run urgently up her back, one hand tangling into her hair. "I'm sorry, if I...I'm sorry."

"What..." She pulls back and looks at him, "Will? No, fuck, you think I was talking about you?"

"I know I treated you badly when you came back, I mean really fucking badly, I've gone over it so many times in my head and I just...well, if I could take back the things I said, and did, I would, I'm sorry, I-"

"Billy." She takes his face in her hands again, her thumbs running across his bottom lip. "Not you, never you. There's a difference between hurting someone because _you're_ hurting, and doing it just because you can. Even when you were as mad as hell at me, I knew you'd never-"

"Brenner." He stops her, his eyes closing briefly as he takes a breath.

"Yeah." Pausing, she attempts a smile that she can't quite pull off. "He was...well, let's just say it wasn't a particularly healthy relationship."

Will pushes her hair back from her face and waits for her to continue.

"He was one of the first people I knew in New York, and he held that over me for a long time, reminding me he was the only person I had here, that my family was miles away, and I didn't have any friends. I remember him saying I'd better make sure he never got tired of me, because where the fuck would that leave me, and I suppose he planted enough doubt in my mind that I thought maybe he was right, you know. The old adage is true that if someone tells you you're shit over and over, sooner or later you're going to start believing them." She sighs, her eyes locked onto his. "You know that, I _know_ you know that."

"Yeah." He leans forward and rests his forehead against hers, his fingers in her hair. "I know. How bad was it, I mean, did he...?"

"You know him, Will, he's an egotistical, insecure arse." She pulls her head back from his and gives him a shaky smile. "He liked that I didn't really have any friends at first, he liked the idea of me relying on him, because that meant he had all the control, and he liked that he was already pretty successful while I was just starting out. Then, when I started to do well at work and got more confident, he couldn't resist kicking me back down. 'Putting me back in my fucking place', was how he referred to it."

"Fuck." He winces. "Please tell me you don't mean that literally."

"A little bit, towards the end." She shrugs but once again can't meet his eyes. "There were a couple of visits to the ER. I have a temper, I can fight, you know that, but when I fight with you we're on a level playing field, and you never goad me just for the hell of it. It was different with him, he would just push and push until I snapped, and by that point he was ready to snap back, and...you know."

"You never told anyone?" she asks, quietly, his thumb softly stroking across her collarbone.

"There wasn't really anyone I _could_ tell." She pauses, giving him a sad smile. "Lying to my mother about how I broke my wrist wasn't one of my proudest moments, but at least lying over the phone from three thousand miles away is easier than face to face. Small mercies, I suppose."

"Jesus, Mac." He sighs, hearing the shake in his voice.

"It's alright." She shakes her head, realising how that sounds. "I mean, it's not alright, obviously, but...oddly, the couple of times he did lash out weren't half as bad as everything else. You know that saying, sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me? Bullshit. Complete fucking bullshit."

"I had no idea, fuck, no idea..." Will reaches for her, pulling her tight against him, breathing in her scent and trying to control the simmering fury he feels building deep inside him.

She clings to him, kissing his cheek, stroking his shoulders, because she has a horrible feeling he's going to start connecting some dots and this conversation is going to get a lot more painful.

"And then I fell in love with you." She pulls back and kisses his cheek, his nose, finally his lips, barely a kiss, more a desperate exchange of air. "Suddenly I realised this was how it was supposed to feel when you're with someone. You let me talk, and you _know_ how much I can talk, you listened to me, you were interested in what I had to say, and you never felt you had to try to better every story I told with one of your own. That was it, it was like a lightning bolt, I went over to his place, told him he was a total shit, and that I never wanted to see him again. Which I didn't until..."

"Until I brought him in." He finishes, his voice breaking slightly. "I brought him in, I shoved him in your face, I even told you I was doing it to punish you. Shit, Mackenzie, that makes me no better than him, worse even."

"Will, no." Her voice is firm, and she grabs his hands, clasping them tightly in her own. "Don't you ever, _ever_ compare yourself to him, he doesn't even deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as you. You were hurting, because of me, you did what you needed to do to protect yourself, it wasn't ever deliberate cruelty, not consciously anyway, it's not the same as the way Brian treated me, it's _not_."

"I could have picked anyone to write that story, and I picked him, and then I stood by and watched him taunt you, I thought you were staying quiet and putting up with his shit for the good of the show, not because you were face to face with someone who..." He pauses, squeezing her hands, still tightly grasping his. "God, Mackenzie, I behaved exactly the way he did, and like my...just like my fucking father-"

"Listen to me, Billy." Her voice is raised now, but she holds it together. "You have never once told me I'm useless, or made me feel inadequate, you've never come home drunk and used that as an excuse to do whatever the fuck you wanted to me, and you've never landed me in the hospital. You are nothing like him, nothing. And you...you are not your father."

"I wish you'd told me," he says, before pausing, rethinking his words. "I don't mean that as a criticism, I understand why you didn't say anything, but if I'd known-"

"When, Will?" she asks, softly. "Yes, I'd love to go on a date with you, but I should warn you that I just came out of the shittiest relationship, and if you even think about being nice to me, I'm going to assume it's because you want something. Would that have been a good way to start?"

"I guess not, but, later, when," he sighs, exasperated by his own verbal failings. "When you found out I was asking Brian to do the story, if you'd only told me then-"

"I tried." Cutting in, she slides her hands down to rest on his shoulders. "When I lost my shit in Charlie's office over the Casey Anthony stuff, which you _knew_ was more about Brian coming in to do the story? I almost told you then...I tried, but I just couldn't seem to figure out what to say, and I didn't want it to seem like a big dose of emotional blackmail. We weren't exactly sharing secrets with each other at that point, Will, if you remember."

"Because I was being a stubborn ass," he says. "You know if you'd told me, I'd never have brought him in, except maybe to beat the shit out of him, you have to know that-"

"I do know that." She gives him a small smile and shrugs. "I just thought he'd come in, I'd handle it, there was no need to drag it all up, I'd put up with it, and we'd get the debate, he'd be gone and I'd come out of it the bigger person."

"You were the bigger person all along, Mac." He runs a hand down her back. "I hate...I fucking hate that he ever made you feel like you weren't."

"I used to be one of those people who thought, shit, I would never put up with that kind of treatment from _anyone_ , but then when you find yourself in that situation, you somehow can't see how toxic it is, you rationalise it; oh, it's a fiery relationship, he's just a bit volatile, it's my fault for rising to the bait, you know," she stops, her fingers gripping his shoulders.

"Nothing he did was your fault, Mackenzie." His tone is gentle and his eyes are fixed on hers. "The same as nothing my father did was my mother's fault, or mine, or any of my siblings."

"God, Will, I don't know how your mother coped, especially with a house full of little kids, it must have been just too daunting to even think about walking away. It makes me feel sick thinking of what you had to go through, and you were just a little boy." She bites her lip again. "You know, I spent a lot of time, especially once I was with you and knew how good a relationship could be, _should_ be, feeling like such an idiot for not walking away-"

"You are _not_ an idiot." He kisses her, tenderly punctuating his words."You were young, trusting, and he was an asshole who took advantage of that, because for whatever reason that was how the sick fuck got his kicks. God, when I think of him following you around the newsroom because I told him to..."

"I bet you wish you'd just stayed in bed, don't you?" She strokes her thumbs slowly across his bottom lip, her eyes on his. "You get up, put some sports on TV and this is what you end up with."

"Mac," he murmurs, his hands on her shoulder blades, his fingers moving down her back. "You don't have to do that with me, not anymore."

"What?" She leans forward again and gives him a soft, sweet kiss, before her hands come to rest on his shoulders.

"Deflect, act like it's all fine, like you're a pain in the ass for bothering me with this." He slides his arms around her back and pulls her closer.

"I'm not," she says, one hand moving into his hair. "Or I don't mean to. It's hard though...for such a long time, I was lonely, Will, _really_ fucking lonely, and I didn't have anyone to talk to. I'd get drunk occasionally and cry about you to Sloan, but mostly I just got used to keeping things inside and pretending everything was fine. I'm trying really hard not to do that anymore, I promise."

"Jesus, we have more baggage between us than JFK, don't we?" He smiles at her. 

"Now who's deflecting?" Raising an eyebrow, she returns his smile.

"Not deflecting, just observing." He quirks an eyebrow back at her, before his expression turns serious. "We can talk about this some more, if you need to. Later, I mean, or whenever, only if you want to, obviously. Or you could see Habib if you you'd rather not talk to me about it, you know-"

"We'll be okay, Billy." She cuts him off, giving him a smile, her eyes glistening. "We _are_ okay."

"I wholeheartedly agree." He pulls her against him, rubbing her back as her head comes to rest on his shoulder. "I love you."

"I know." She sighs, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, murmuring. "It's a two way street."

"We should go back to bed," he says quietly, as he feels her relax against him. "It's cold out here, your feet are going to turn to ice and my knees will never take a night on the couch."

"I love your old man knees." Her hand reaches blindly for his, and he feels her smiling against his skin.

"And I love your ice cold feet." He slides a hand down to squeeze her foot and she laughs softly. 

"Then we're good," she says, contentedly.

"Yeah." He breathes against her. "We're good."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Have I ever, I don’t mean now, but maybe before,” he pauses for a second. “Have I ever asked you to do anything you were uncomfortable with? In the bedroom, I mean.”_

He spots her sitting on the terrace, her hands cradling a mug, a pair of huge wool socks on her feet, her slender frame swamped by his huge bathrobe ("Yours is so much fluffier, Billy.") as she sits out in the early morning chill. He stands unnoticed and watches her for a few minutes, cataloguing the strands of hair that have escaped her ponytail to tickle her neck, taking in the way she blinks extra quickly when she’s out in the cold as if the motion will warm her up (he wonders if she’s even aware she does that), noticing the faint smile that plays across her lips when she takes a drink and her gaze falls on her engagement ring.

It's not a surprise to find her awake early this morning, he knows she didn’t sleep well, and neither did he; he figures it's understandable following the conversation they had a few hours ago. They didn’t go back to bed until almost three, and he woke around five with her pressed so tightly against him, her face buried so far into the crook of his neck, that he wondered how she could still breathe. He had simply held her a little tighter and vowed silently to do everything he could to make sure nobody hurts her again. If he was angry with Brenner last night, it has multiplied into an unquantifiable fury this morning, growing with every minute he stands and watches her.

He’s never known anyone like Mackenzie, and he knows that's the reason she knocked him right off his feet from the first moment they met. She's smart and funny, kind and strong, so damn strong, and she’s inclined to trust, to believe the best in people; his innate cynicism means it's something they bicker about almost constantly but it's also one of the many traits of hers that he loves. When she met Brian she was young and idealistic, just starting out in a new city, and a decent man would have seen that and offered support, done what he could to help boost her confidence, to make her see that she could do anything. Instead he did what only a complete asshole would do, constantly belittling her (and so much worse) to try to make himself feel bigger. What was it Tennessee Williams wrote for Blanche Dubois, he tries to recall...deliberate cruelty is not forgivable, it is the one unforgivable thing.

So much of what she told him a few hours ago is still spinning around his brain, he had been so busy listening to everything she was telling him, trying to cope with the vision of her with a broken wrist, smiling and making jokes about her inherent clumsiness, that he struggled to absorb it. It’s only this morning he finds his thoughts returning over and over to one thing she slipped deftly into a sentence and didn’t elaborate on… _you've never come home drunk and used that as an excuse to do whatever the fuck you wanted to me _.__

__It makes him feel sick, unsettled somehow, and it makes him think of his mother, reminds him all too well of how he would keep his siblings occupied when their father came home drunk, knowing what was happening in the next room, but knowing there wasn’t anything he, as an eleven year old, could do to stop it. Brian Brenner had better keep hoping he never crosses Will’s path again, because Will is no longer eleven years old, and he’s nowhere near as forgiving as Mackenzie._ _

__Somehow sensing him standing there, she looks up and smiles; a real Mackenzie smile, the one he missed for the years he was committed to resenting her, when he was so focused on never forgiving her. It's the smile he only really knew he’d been craving when he proposed and watched her happiness spread slowly across her face. She stands up and heads inside, walking over to him and sliding her arms around him, leaning her head against his chest and sighing contentedly._ _

__“Morning, honey,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the top of her head, his hands rubbing her back. “Aren't you cold?"_ _

__“Not really,” she says, quietly. “I needed some air, it’s nice out there this morning.”_ _

__“You okay?” he asks, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes._ _

__“Yeah, I…” She pauses, and takes a breath before continuing. “I’m sorry about last night, I really hadn't planned to drop all that on you."_ _

__“You didn’t drop anything on me,” he says softly. “You said something that concerned me, I asked you about it, and we talked…wait, I didn’t push you, did I?”_ _

__“No,” she says, her tone firm. “ _No_ , I probably should have talked to you about it earlier, but there never seemed to be a right time. When we were together the first time, it was all still pretty raw, and then for so long those kinds of conversations were pretty much off limits between us, they were just too…personal, I guess. We weren’t exactly on those terms most of the time."_ _

__“I know, I-“_ _

__“That wasn’t your cue to start beating yourself up about being stubborn and wasting time.” She stops him with a hint of a smile, her expression turning sober again before she continues. “And, you know, I've never told anyone before, so…I mean, I'm pretty sure my mum had some idea but I guess I'm better at denial over the phone than I thought...”_ _

__“Well, I’m glad you told me.” He leans down and kisses her softly. “That bastard had better keep hoping he doesn’t run into me anytime soon though.”_ _

__“Billy…” she says nothing more, just takes his hand and grasps it tightly in hers._ _

__“I’m not planning on hunting him down, I’m just saying that if he ever shows up somewhere I am…well, he’d better keep fucking walking, and fast.” He stops, not wanting this to look like some kind of pissing contest, he’s just so damn angry about everything she went through._ _

__“Can we go back to bed?” she asks, tugging on his hand, smiling when he nods._ _

__They’re curled up in bed, her head on his chest and her feet pushed between his legs, socks tickling his calves when he raises the subject that’s been bothering him all morning._ _

__“Can I ask you something?” He takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing her fingers._ _

__“Of course,” she says, nodding against him._ _

__“Have I ever, I don’t mean now, but maybe before.” He pauses for a second. “Have I ever asked you to do anything you were uncomfortable with? In the bedroom, I mean.”_ _

__“No.” Her answer is instant, without a nanosecond of hesitation. “Never, Will…where the hell did that come from?”_ _

__“You said something..." He stops, wondering if he's right to bring this up at all but he goes with his instinct, knowing she'll never let him get away with backing down from his question at this point. "You made some reference last night to Brian coming home drunk and doing whatever the hell he wanted, and I just thought, shit, what if I-“_ _

__“Have you been stewing on this all night?” She cuts him off, lifting her head enough to place a kiss to the side of his jaw._ _

__“I wouldn’t say stewing, exactly…” He stops because stewing is exactly what he’s been doing. “I’m not making this about me, I promise you that, I’m just so fucking angry with him, Mac, for hurting you, for treating you the way he did, and if I thought for a second I’d ever made you do anything against your will, then I-“_ _

__“Well, you _did_ make me report on Casey Anthony,” she says, a hint of amusement in her voice that he suspects is solely for his benefit. “Seriously though, no, I have never once felt pressured by you to do anything I didn’t want to.”_ _

__“Ok,” he says, but she picks up on his hesitant tone and scoots up the bed so she can lean up to kiss him, firmly on the lips._ _

__“I promise,” she says, kissing him again. “You are kind, and considerate, and loving, and so bloody good between the sheets they should give you a medal. And you know me, when have I ever not made it pretty clear what I like and what I don't?"_ _

__"Well, now you mention it, 'I'll experiment with most things, but I do have one hard and fast rule; the back door is for shitting, not shagging' is burned into my ear canal for the rest of time," he says, smiling at her and stroking the hair from her face._ _

__"Yeah, well, that rule is still firmly in place," she says, smiling but looking away. "Non- negotiable, that one. Not that I thought you were trying to negotiate...I mean, you know."_ _

__"Mac..." He hesitates. "Did he-"_ _

__"It doesn't matter now, really." She shakes her head, her voice firm. "I don't want to talk about that."_ _

__"Fuck, Mackenzie." He gives a heavy sigh. "I swear, if I thought I'd ever reminded you of him, even just for a second, I-"_ _

__"Will." She stops him, her voice firm. "You could never remind me of him. He was all about control, I know that now, maybe a part of me knew it even back then, but I didn’t exactly have a whole heap of experience. I told you before that until I met you, I'd never really been in a serious relationship, and with him I just thought that's what happens when you're with someone for a while. If he came home and wanted sex, even if I wasn’t in the mood, or was barely awake, it was never really negotiable, or at least I suppose it felt like it was just easier to close my eyes and get it over with. Especially if he'd been drinking, it was preferable to a fight, and frankly, if I didn't raise a protest it sure as hell didn't last as long as a fight would."_ _

__“Mackenzie, you know you could throw the fucking book at him for this, right?” He keeps his voice low, because he isn’t angry with her, but he _is_ angry, he’s barely containing it, but he knows he needs to keep it in check. “At the very least, that’s assault, and-“_ _

__“I know that, I’m not a _complete_ idiot.” There's anger in her voice but it's tinged with something else, a hint of defensiveness at what she perceives as a criticism._ _

__"Honey, you're not an idiot on any level, far from it. I didn't mean it that way." He runs a hand down her arm and realises she's trembling. "I know it's not as easy to get out of a situation like that as people seem to think it is, I grew up watching it first hand, I _know_."_ _

__He stops because she has her eyes pressed shut and she seems to suddenly need all the concentration she has just to remember to breathe. Running his hand gently down her arm again, he kisses the top of her head softly, cursing himself for raising this and not predicting how difficult it might be for her._ _

__"I'm sorry, we don't need to talk about this, the last thing I wanted to do was upset you." He sighs, but notes with some relief that her eyes are open again and she's looking at him._ _

__"I'm alright," she says, letting out a long breath, "I mean, shit, this was all stuff that happened so long ago, I don't know why it's getting to me like this."_ _

__"Jesus Mac, give yourself a break, there's no time limit on when something should stop affecting you, sometimes it takes a fucking lifetime," he says, smiling softly at her. "You talked to someone when you got home from the Middle East, right? A therapist?"_ _

__"Yeah, a bit." She nods. "Why?"_ _

__"None of this ever came up?" he asks, cautiously._ _

__"Funnily enough, in between the flashbacks, the nightmares, the panic attacks and the endless prescriptions to get the cocktail of meds right just so I could get out of bed in the morning, it didn't really come up, no," she says wryly._ _

__"I know you're probably going to tell me you're fine, but do you think it might help if you talked to someone now?" he asks, trying to be as gentle as possible because the last thing he wants to do is push her. He just wants her to be alright._ _

__"I'm talking to you, Will," she sighs, sliding her hand slowly up his chest, and resting it over his heart. "This is the first time I've said any of this stuff out loud...could we maybe just leave it at that for now?"_ _

__"We can do whatever you want, hon." He covers her hand with his._ _

__"There _is_ something you can do," she says._ _

__"Anything," he replies without hesitation._ _

__"Just...please don't look at me any differently." She pauses, faltering slightly before pushing on. "I mean...I know this is new information for you, and that it's made you angry, and I understand that, but I couldn't bear it if you started tiptoeing around me, or checking with me before you touch me. I trust you, Billy, completely, and I don't want anything to change between us because of this. Does that make sense?"_ _

__"Yeah," he says, but she doesn't look convinced so he repeats himself, more firmly and she smiles._ _

__"I'm not saying I won't ever want to talk about it again, but for the moment, I'm alright." She shifts slightly and kisses him, her hand stroking his chest. "I need you to believe that."_ _

__"I do," he says._ _

__"Will..." She drags out his name, and pulls a face at him, the face that says she's not buying his assertion._ _

__"Honey, you're the strongest person I know." He runs a finger slowly down her cheek. "Nothing changes that, I promise nothing will _ever_ change that. I won't push you, but...I just want you to know you can. Talk, I mean, whenever you want to."_ _

__"I know." She nods and wraps her arms around him, nuzzling into his neck and placing a soft kiss to his skin. "Thank you."_ _

__They lie in relaxed silence for a few minutes, her hand still on his chest, his fingers tracing a slow route down her arm. His thoughts drift again to how close he really came to losing this, losing her, how he almost let her go on election night, and the thought sends an involuntary shiver down his spine._ _

__"What do you want to do today?" he asks, breaking the quiet._ _

__"Do we have to do anything other than this?" She snuggles closer, sliding a foot slowly up his calf._ _

__"Nope." He kisses the top of her head. "If you want to stay in bed all day, we can do that."_ _

__"That sounds so nice right now," she says, sighing. "Also though, pancakes. Pancakes sound good too. I'd really like pancakes. And syrup, and coffee, but mostly just pancakes."_ _

__"You want to go out for pancakes?" He's amused by her sudden enthusiasm._ _

__"I don't want to go out, I don't even want to get dressed," she says. "I want to eat pancakes here, in bed with you, and watch you try to pretend you don't mind when I get syrup all over the sheets."_ _

__"Pancakes in bed, huh?" He ignores the jibe about the sheets because damn, she's right, he can be a pain in the ass about stupid stuff like that, but he's trying harder not to be._ _

__"Yep, that's my only goal for today." She nods. "Perfectly achievable, I think."_ _

__"Couldn't agree more," he says. "If I could only find the motivation to get to the kitchen..."_ _

__"If I promise to spill at least some of the syrup in places you can lick it off, would that help?" She narrows her eyes and grins at him._ _

__"It sure as hell wouldn't hurt." He grins back at her._ _

__"Pancakes it is then," she says, pausing to roll herself half on top of him, laughing when his eyes widen and his hands reach automatically for her hips to steady her._ _

__"Hi," he says, as her face hovers over his._ _

__"Hi yourself." She closes the distance and kisses him, her fingers sliding into his hair. "You know the thing about pancakes?"_ _

__"What?" he asks, returning her kiss before pulling back and waiting for an answer._ _

__"You need to make sure you've built up a really good appetite, or it's just no good." She slides her hands under his t-shirt and runs her nails lightly down his chest. "Tackling a stack of pancakes if you're not very hungry is like trying to eat steak with a soup spoon. Totally pointless."_ _

__"Not going to argue with that," he says. "To be fair though, I'm probably not going to argue with anything when you're lying on top of me, doing _that_ with your nails."_ _

__"Mmm, good to know." She dips her head and runs her tongue slowly up the side of his neck, grinning against his skin as she feels him shudder slightly._ _

__"Jesus, Mac," he murmurs, his hands moving down her thighs as she brings her lips from his neck back to his mouth, her tongue sliding slowly across his bottom lip._ _

__"Honey?" She pulls back slightly, and smirks at him. "Yes, my beloved?" he smirks back and she laughs._ _

__"Ideally, I'd like to be able to eat six pancakes, so..." She bites her lip and runs her thumbs softly across his cheekbones before rolling off him and throwing herself back against the pillow beside him, her arms above her head._ _

__"Six, huh?" he asks, turning onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow as he grins at her._ _

__"Yep." She reaches out a hand and ruffles his hair._ _

__"Meaning...?" He knows what she wants but he can't quite resist teasing, because damn she looks good right now, cheeks slightly pink, eyes dark as she looks at him._ _

__"Meaning." She licks her lips slowly, and he's pretty much done for. "You should take off your damn pants and start helping me work up that appetite, Billy."_ _

__"You only love me for my pancakes." He wraps a hand around her waist and pulls her towards him, kissing her as his hand slides under the waistband of her shorts._ _

__"Not _only_ for your pancakes." She pauses, her breath catching as his thumb starts to rub small circles around her hipbone._ _

__"My superior intelligence, wit, and bucket loads of natural charm?" He stops to nibble softly on her bottom lip, smirking at her as he pulls back._ _

__"Yeah, all of those things." She grins and raises her eyebrows as he pushes her gently back and moves to settle between her legs. "And _that_ too."_ _

__"This old thing?" he says, tilting his hips slightly, watching her eyes widen as she bites her lip._ _

__"Mmm, I'm counting on that old thing make me ravenous enough to eat six pancakes." She sighs and pulls him down for a kiss._ _

__"God, I love you," he says, pushing her hair from her face and smiling at her._ _

__"Will you still love me when I spill syrup on the sheets?" she asks, pulling her knees up and locking her feet tightly around his thighs._ _

__"Honey, you could roll me in syrup and call me Sally, and I'd still love you." He rubs his nose against hers and she giggles._ _

__"Alright Sally." She kisses him, threading her fingers through his hair. "Make me hungry."_ _


End file.
